Bleach (Careful Blues)
by Pretenders
Summary: After a moment of lust as teenagers between Bubbles and Boomer, Bubbles now faces the consequence of pregnancy alone. What no one knows is that HIM has been waiting for the arrival of the super powered child who he is determined to make evil and destroy the Powerpuff Girls with the help of a sadistic Brick. PPG and RRB. Adult themes. Death. Brutality/Abuse.
1. Choices

_**Decided to rewrite what I had to redefine the plot. This is much longer than what I originally had and will establish more of what I planned for this story.  
**_

_**Scanned and read twice. This story is inspired by, "Come Home" by One Republic.**_

_**As of 24/7/14, this chapter IS EDITED.**_

* * *

**Careful Blues**

Every woman has a dream of marrying a man who is successful, loving, and protective. For a super powered blonde, who at the age of seventeen neared her graduation, this dream occurred every night she fell asleep. Those dreams were laced with tragedy as the man she dreamed of painfully reminded her of their consequential rendezvous and his untimely disappearance. She hadn't come to face him for over five months.

Teenage love was meant to be meaningless; really an experimenting of love that helped to settle all curiosity teenagers held. They didn't know what it meant to be in love. The world that surrounded the word was different than anything they had believed as children. Bubbles made a terrible choice as to who she wanted to experiment the definition of love with. Her own enemy, her sworn rival, became the center of her world.

The Professor was wrong at the time for lecturing her about teenage _love_. He strictly grounded his opinion of it being unrealistic and a naive Bubbles wanted nothing but to prove him wrong. For the Professor, teens didn't understand love no matter how hard they tried or believed they did. He simply understood that boys at that age wouldn't want to have the responsibility of loving a woman, supporting a woman, or caring for anyone other than themselves. It was the age meant for both young man and woman to experience who they truly were, separated and alone. In the end, love for teenagers was mere _lust_ according to him.

Nevertheless, Bubbles harbored an infatuation with Boomer. Their battles caused her heart to race in his presence and every time she settled on his matured face, she went to bed and dreamed of a possibility that he'd _love _her. The Professor agreed that boys do mature to understand _true love_ but it would come for a mature boy at an older age than for a mature girl. Boomer was slowly growing into a young man. His small face became structured, outlined, and defined.

But Bubbles didn't understand that no matter how mature a man _looked _not all seemed to seek _true love_. Bubbles hadn't known that the sensation she felt every time she landed a glance toward her enemy was _lust_ and not _love_. She was fooled by her own imagination in believing she was feeling something that was never there. It was part of being a teenage girl; it was part of understanding life's first tragedy: _heart ache_.

Their last battle had made Bubbles' restraints break completely. Her words and phrases her mouth uttered were sounds Bubbles never knew she could muster the courage to say. Her lustful mind took control of her fooled heart and she launched herself onto her enemy. Their filling lips attacked each other and Bubbles hoped that whatever reaction Boomer displayed would end up making her sensual dreams a reality. That was the hope that would be lifted past submission and brought down by a shallow consequence that would place her heart into a blackness that delivered the greatest suffering.

Boomer's own secret yearning, quiet loneliness caused by his brothers, and changing body were the results of his surreal reaction. Blonde lovers held onto the one they thirsted for, never once separating as they connected beneath a burning sun. There was no question of their actions being right or wrong as they heard and felt the rythym of pleasure. Bubbles, submissive and overwhelmed, tightly gripped the muscles defined on his arms, back, and shoulders.

She took a second to wonder if her sisters ever felt such a _desire _for their enemies. Her whole vision fogged over with _need_. Boomer hadn't tore away, he hadn't parted from her moistened skin, and Bubbles stupidly believed _this_ was his silent commitment. Their own breaths suffocated their releases and Boomer fell beside her panting body.

This separation allowed for their minds to race with thoughts, questions, _doubt_. There was now no pleasure to focus on. They hesitated to look at the other, the one that they had just succumbed to. Boomer, his mind collecting its senses first, bolted up to cloth himself. He realized their actions and had no other want than to abandon his enemy.

With an outstretched arm and a poisoned call, Bubbles witnessed the moment that would introduce her to heart ache. Every woman, no matter how strong, would crumble into the epitome of a female's emotional weakness after such an affair. Allowing for a man to touch what rightfully belonged hidden from view created a connection to his very scent, face, _figure_. Bubbles glided her shaking hand over her glistening stomach to touch the part of her that had just been robbed.

Her fingers touched the wet, sticky substance that stuck to her inner thighs. She let her hand fall as she hugged herself, cowled into a ball and now surrounded herself in her own cries. There was a fear building inside her that was scolding her for her irrational decision and stupidity. She knew what was to come; she knew very well the consequence of the fulfilled _desire_. The challenge of viewing a birth to come as a bless or gift would be the greatest of her suffering.

Because she would be _alone_.

* * *

"Now tell me sweetie, for dessert, does apricot or pumpkin pie sound better?"

Bubbles looked up from the open book, '_Expecting__ Mothers_' in her hands, "Professor, you know I love anything you make!"

"_Oh, _I'm being bothersome, aren't I?" His raised brows smoothed as he noticed the book in her hands.

"No, not at all! I know you only ask because you want only the best for the both of us!"

For a moment, he stood confused at her statement. Then, as he lowered his eyes to find her hand rested on her growing stomach, he smiled. He needed no spoken reason to agree with her. He knew well that she could sense the agreement behind his smile. He anticipated the arrival of the baby, who the family had just discovered was a boy.

The last visit to the doctor's revealed that his darling Bubbles would deliver very soon. She was in the last stages of pregnancy, having faced all the pains, nausea, and cravings that came with her developing baby boy. Her own anticipation radiated off the happiness she found after the suffering that haunted her for most of the pregnancy.

The last time he witnessed her smile, a smile as wide as her face, was on her graduation day. He had to order a larger size for her robe and recalled how memorable the day became. She was extraordinary and the Professor hadn't once doubted that she'd make a remarkable mother. All his heart ever wanted was to have seen her in this moment of life as an older, prepared woman. But never once did this make his support for his loving daughter waiver. He stood by her side through her late night sobs, her fear of being pregnant and alone, and the pain of knowing her baby would only have their grandfather.

"_Just remember that the bond of a family will prove to be stronger than the presence of a father."_

He remembered kissing her damp forehead before watching her fall into a peaceful slumber. Bubbles raised her eyes to him with her magazine now out of her hands. She pushed herself up from the couch, her hands resting on her stomach the moment she stood on her feet. She protected her baby for nine months and would never hesitate in protecting him for the rest of his life.

"Actually, I think he's getting a craving for _pumpkin,_"

"_Anything_ for the my little hero,"

"Yes," she caressed the skin that reacted as the baby moved within her uterus, "_Anything._"

* * *

Buttercup caught the guilty men who dared to stare her way as she shopped for tampons. They would hide themselves from her glare, some pretending to have been studying an item in their hands.

"What? Never seen girls shop for tampons before! Geez!"

"Buttercup, calm down," Blossom threw another set of baby clothes in the basket, "They're just shopping for their own things."

"Huh, _yeah right_, they're just being _perverts! _Yeah, I see you lookin—_what? _You really want to look _me_ up and down, don't you? When I'm done with you, your eyes will be ripped out of its sockets and blended into my spaghetti sauce tonight!"

Blossom gave an apologetic wave, "Hey, I'm sorry, sir! She's just going through that time!"

"_Men_," Buttercup threw her tampons into the basket, catching sight of all the outfits Blossom stored into their cart, "Blossom, he won't be one month forever! Geez, how much money are you going to spend on all this?"

"All the money I want to, he's coming into this world very soon and I want nothing but to spoil my nephew!" Her hands gripped onto a Teddy Bear that had been placed in the wrong aisle, "This is perfect!"

"No, Blossom, you're not going to spend all this money on some brat!" Buttercup began to grab hold of all the hangers.

Blossom retorted, "Buttercup, how could you be so selfish? We will have enough for your sports!"

"_Twenty dollar shoes! _No, we won't have enough if you're spending it on pricey baby crap!"

"Put those back in the cart, they're adorable!"

"No, I'm going to—Professor is call—_Hello?_"

Blossom smoothed out the wrinkled clothing, "You're absurd if you think anything is too much for _our _nephew,"

"She's _what? _Ok, ok! Tell her to fly there! _What? _She can't _fly_?"

Blossom noticed the concerned tone in Buttercup's conversation, "What is it?"

"Right, of course a _pregnant_ puff can't fly," Buttercup raised a finger to her mouth to shush Blossom, "We'll be on our way!"

Buttercup kicked the cart away from the aisle, causing everyone to now stare in fear at her unnecessary agression.

"Buttercup, what was that—"

"Do you _want_ to be late for your bratty nephew's birth?"

Blossom suddenly brightened, flipping over their roles as she gripped Buttercup's wrist roughly to pull her behind as she flew through the ceiling of the store to Townsville's Hospital. Buttercup knew Blossom now risked landing them a damage fine by causing a hole in the store's ceiling. She cursed at Blossom the rest of the way to the hospital.

* * *

In the secluded area of Townsville's forest, three male siblings tore a part the cabin that was home to Fuzzy Lumpkins. The furry animal fell to his knees in defeat. He had no power to put and end over the destruction of his home. His cherished memories were destroyed to pieces by three male, young adults who sensed no remorse.

The redheaded, purely sinister sibling shot a death glare to Fuzzy once all that was left of the cabin was its rubble. The aggressive, masculine sibling laughed in the face of a breaking Fuzzy. From behind the two boys surfaced the last sibling: a blonde, pale, troubled man who had to kneel down to Fuzzy's level in order to emphasize their true status. Fuzzy had threatened the men that he'd kill them if they ever set foot on his property again, and to his shock, the men took his threat as a joke as they attacked his precious home.

The blonde lifted Fuzzy's chin, forcing him to face him. The man was unbelievably horrifying. His blue eyes, a color that Fuzzy compared to dreams and sweetness, became the epitome of nightmares and hell. He felt the man's hold of his chin tightened and before he could use his strength to free himself, the man broke his chin in his grasp.

Fuzzy rolled over in agony. The other two laughed at the sight, taking in the smell of blood with satisfying grins. The sheer pain Fuzzy suffered was an invitation for the blonde to latch his powerful hand onto his leg, having to use both of his hands to have a firm hold. Fuzzy's large leg was yanked on, his body moving across the grass as the blonde dragged him to the area he wanted.

"Beat him to a pulp,"

"_Kill_ 'em,"

"_Nah_," the blonde's breath washed over Fuzzy's ear, "I think I'll show this fatty just _who_ he was messin' with."

* * *

Buttercup chose to wait in the lobby of the hospital while the arrival of her nephew took place. Her decision proved to be far worse than witnessing child birth. The media of Townsville surrounded the hospital, equipped with news vans, cameras, and news anchors. Buttercup did her best to turn back to run down the hall, as flying in the hospital wasn't allowed in fear that their recovering patients would be startled at the sudden shaking of the hospital. Their flying abilities had certainly become far more powerful than when they were little girls.

"Miss Buttercup! We only have a few question!"

"As if!" Buttercup didn't stop, she was going to be in the safety of Bubbles' room if it meant keeping out of the lime light.

She never favored the media. They always made her out to be an uncontrollable female with manly interests and habits. They once spread a rumor of a secret lover that they were sure wasn't of the opposite gender. This infuriated Buttercup who swore to it that she'd never let the media blog, write, or _look _at her.

Her fleeing didn't make the many journalists stop them from finishing the job. They aired onto nearly every channel that broadcast in Townsville. Every citizen was now tuning into the moments that would near up to a child of a Powerpuff. Their juicy questions of whether or not the child would consist of human, mortal qualities, or if the child would take after their mother's near immortality and super powered strength, were waiting to be answered.

No one knew the identity of the father, for Bubbles had revealed his name to no one. Not even the Professor knew for he was lied to. She had made the choice of being dishonest to her family and her home. To everyone's knowledge, the father was a student from Poaky Oats High who shared a _romantic _evening with their cherished Powerpuff.

But her son's upbringing was far from romantic. And her son's father was for from resembling any human aspects. She knew very well that her son was strong, _very_. She felt him kick during the nights, and at times, the movement made her feel as if he'd tear her stomach open.

The only question that didn't roam no ones mind was the question of whether or not her son would use his gifted strength to defend Townsville's citizens from evil, or if he would take after his father's history and be born with something far more sinister.

* * *

Fuzzy's limp body held bruises from head to toe. The blonde had attacked every inch of Fuzzy his fists could reach. Every inch had truly meant _every inch _to the blonde. Fuzzy was nearing death as the blonde continued. Death was welcoming, and Fuzzy wanted nothing but to escape his torture.

The redheaded man ran a hand through his free, long locks, "'Nough, I'm getting' hungry,"

The blonde stopped his attack, "He's almost dead and you want me to stop 'cause you're _hungry_?"

"You her'd me—_I'm hungry_,"

"I don't give a _shit _if you're _hungry_,"

"You wanna say that again to my face?"

The intimidation of his stronger, older brother began to creep on him. The blonde, however, had no respect for his brother no matter how powerful he could become. He held no respect for anyone and neither did his brothers. The tongues they used towards each other defined the amount of care they had for their own blood.

"You still gon' be a lil bitch about it? Eat this piece of shit for all I care," the blonde gave a rough kick to Fuzzy's back, but Fuzzy had no strength left to react.

His limp body rolled toward the angered redhead, "You think you're better than me, don't 'cha? You're the piece of shit here and if you think talkin' back to me is gonna make yoi larger than me, you're terribly mistaken,"

"You're nothin' more than bark, Brick, nothin' more than a grown pussy,"

"_Hah! _Well, well, you sure woke up with a fucked up mind today!"

Their destructive brother looked on at the pathetic display his brothers engaged in. He turned his attention to his pale brother, pushing himself off a tree he had been leaning on as he watched the torture Fuzzy suffered.

"You think you got the _balls _to be callin' Brick the _pussy_?" in an instant he had pushed himself off the ground with a dark green streak behind him, coming inches away from his blonde brother's face, "Last time I remembered, you're the one who made us hide out in this damned forest 'cause you were too _pussy _to fight those three bitches!"

He viciously pushed away his brother, "Next time you want to bring up the past, how about we talk 'bout your twitchin' problems?"

"Give it up, Boomer _bitch_,"

The insulting surname made Boomer struggle to contain himself. He was no match against both of his brothers who were sure to gang up on him.

"Let's ditch this pussy, Butch, before I fuck him up!"

Boomer snarled at his departing two brothers. The sight of Fuzzy made Boomer release his pent up anger. He yelled in rage as his powerful energy created a baseball bat in his hand, an ability Boomer hadn't used since being a teen, and without another thought, he slammed the bat into Fuzzy's chest.

He no longer felt the faint vibration of Fuzzy's heart. The blood that seeped into the forest's soil brought forth a memory that made Boomer fall forth, his hand coming to his stomach as he vomited. It was the sickening reaction of recalling that he had once used his hands, his own evil, to steal the innocence of a puff who was his wretched enemy right in the very forest where he had killed Fuzzy.

Her body swirled his stomach and made him puke every time he envisioned it.


	2. Arrival

_**When I write for PPG, I envision the characters to have a more realistic appearance than a cartoon[ish] one. **_

_**Scanned and read twice.  
**_

_**As of 24/7/14, this chapter IS EDITED.**_

* * *

**Careful Blues**

The nurse hurried over to the tools laid out on the metal plate and prepared to hand the scissors to the Professor. Bubbles was near finished in labor but her son proved to resist the force she used to push.

"You're almost there, Miss Bubbles, just one push!"

Bubbles never once felt weak in battle. She never once felt her limbs ache, or her muscles grow loose, but this pregnancy proved to be her toughest fight. She pushed with all her might only to feel her son's refusal to enter into the real world. Her lungs scratched each time she yelped out from the pain. Her body's natural reaction to injury began to work to heal the nerves but the reaction time was too slow to ease her pain.

"Give me one _big _push!"

"_Oh! I'm try—tryin—OH GOSH!_"

The Professor stood behind the glass window that separated the labor room. Blossom insisted she hold Bubbles hand knowing very well that her sister's strength could break her creator's hand. He looked on at the scene, proud of the strong leader he created her to be. Blossom was his precious creation and daughter, and she did all she could to be there for her sisters. He looked on as Blossom began comforting her sweating, panting sister by holding her hand and easing her pain by caressing her forehead. It seemed to settle Bubbles despite the volume of her shouts.

Then, the moment all of Townsville had been waiting for had finally arrived. The pure image of a pale, wrinkled, bloody baby made his way into Bubbles' memories. Her doctor held the boy delicately, allowing for Bubbles to see her son before the nurse wrapped him into a towel to take him to get cleaned. Bubbles' head fell back upon the pillow once her son exited the room.

"You're the toughest sister _I know_," Blossom reached for a towel to wipe her drenched sister.

Bubbles giggled, her whole body tingled with relief, excitement, and an incredible feeling that she couldn't explain. The entire world as she knew it had reshuffled, _changed_ in just moments after she welcomed her first child. All that raced through her mind was the image of her son.

Innocent, fearful, and amazingly pale—his skin had competed against her own and the hint of mane upon his head reminded her gravely of his father. She began to wonder the darkness to his eyes. Whether he had been born with her light shade or his father's pitch orbs. Her growing passion to lay eyes once more on her son became immense.

That's when she realized that _this _was _true love_ and _true desire_. This was what the Professor read to her about as a child from her fairy tale stories and lectured her about as a teenager. Her _son_ was her one and only.

* * *

Brick landed back onto a pavement he almost felt a stranger to. Only months had passed since he last stepped onto the sidewalk he once called home. A home he had no regrets of destroying. He smirked evilly at the emptiness of Townsville's once bustling streets. He knew the citizens had cowered in terror just at the sight of his blood streak in the skies. He felt empowered knowing that his figure never left the memories of Townsville's citizens.

"Bet they saw us comin',"

"Shut it, Butch,"

Butch obeyed his leader. He silently followed his brother, stalking down the isolated area. Brick examined his surroundings and soon came to realize that a nearby electronics store's television was too loud for just an advertisement. He flew over to the store, setting his eyes on the crowded area on the screen. His attention caught onto the woman who made her way into the camera lens.

Her red hair, elegant pink eyes, and soft complexion made Brick's mind begin to plan out its malicious deeds. He could remember the image of her torn, bloody flesh against a building the last time they faced each other. She was a tough, sniveling enemy that gave him all the entertainment he could ever need.

Watching her fight against his grip and bravely spit out insults to his character made a smirk paint his lips. He could _smell_ the hate she held for him. She was the only _being _to ever refuse to submit to his stimulating savageness. She did so to defend her puny place as his enemy: fighter of good, threat to evil. She dared to question his strength and abilities.

Even his own creator, Mojo, submitted to his power. The monkey knew very well the growing power of the aging male. Even her own sisters steered clear of battling against him every time they encountered each other. His own brothers knew of the evil he was capable of. Even HIM understood his place below the redhead.

But the pitiful, good ginger defied his authority. She offended his might and spit at his power and Brick recalled that he never got around to proving to her just how sinister he truly was. Now, he could prove to her just how sinister he _truly became_.

"_We're here at Townsville Emergency Center_—"

The many pieces of the damaged street that broke away from the sheer charge of Brick's streak flew in Butch's direction. He shielded his eyes, his arms being cut from the broken cement. His small injuries healed instantly. Butch kept his eyes on his brother's red path, preparing himself for launch.

* * *

"—Awaiting for the arrival of our new heroin mother, Bubbles Utonium! The admirable leader of the trio, Blossom, has just stepped out of the Emergency Center with the equally admirable scientist, the Professor!"

Blossom blushed, "You're too kind, _please_, ask any questions you'd like!"

The anchor continued, "Wonderful! What gender is the baby?"

"He's a handsome boy!"

The Professor came through, "Darling, maybe we should get goi—"

"Already knocked up, ain't we?"

The crowd of nosy citizens turned their attention at the sudden dark, low voice. Blossom set her eyes on a man who hovered in the air, looking down at the scene with a wickedness only one boy could master. She gasped, unknowingly clenching the Professor's coat too tightly.

He descended to the ground, eyes never faltering away from Blossom's figure. He marched up to her shocked scent, pushing past shaken citizens. When he did push, he didn't hold back any pent up strength. The citizens he pushed had flown back from the force as other citizens felt paralyzed in fear. He would still have enough strength left for Blossom.

Blossom's spark of duty brought courage to her voice, "You have no business returning to Townsville."

"Business? No, babe, I just have _unfinished _business,"

"Leave, you _monster_,"

"And if I don't?"

"I'll have to _make _you,"

"Then how 'bout I see what you got."

* * *

Her hard sister entered the room. Bubbles lifted her head at the sound of entrance, coming to a smile at her sister's being. She then noticed the bundle in her arms too eagerly.

"Please," she breathed out, still feeling the outcome of child birth.

Buttercup walked over to her sister's bedside, softly lowering her nephew into his mother's arms. Truthfully, she now couldn't blame Blossom for being crazy about the brat. He wasn't a cry baby as she expected him to be. He was silent, calm, and asleep.

"Oh, baby, _shhh_, mommy's here,"

Buttercup wrinkled her face in disgust, "Geez, he really does have only a face a mother could love!"

"Quit it, Buttercup, you know he's precious,"

"Not at all," Buttercup sat at the end of the bed, "Do you have a name for him?"

Bubbles pondered over a name, all the while never looking away from her son's wake and the sight of his obscure, blue eyes.

* * *

"Shut that trap of yours, babe, and feed me,"

Blossom suddenly felt the air around her become heavy as Brick closed his fist around her neck, choking her as he banged her against the hospital wall. Her head bounced off the wall slightly from the impact, his mouth inches from her ear.

"_I've been starving for murder_,"

He gripped at her graceful, ginger hair that framed her body with its length. He pulled down roughly, receiving a cry and yelp from her enclosed throat. She reached up to rip his hand off her throat but Brick had been awaiting for this reaction.

Pulling her body away from the wall, he let her figure go, preparing for a kick to her abdomen. He waited for a sound of her pain before landing the blow. The blockage of oxygen to her lungs made her brain fragile and too slow to understand his intentions. Before she could regain herself, she was sent flying from his kick, blood flying out of her mouth.

* * *

Boomer watched as the fifth tree came falling down to the ground. He flew to another trunk, releasing his anger on nature. The bark ripped away in chunks, Boomer intent of making this tree fall. It symbolized his emotions. He was _falling_.

Falling far away from his brothers, his sanity, along with his own place in the darkness. He felt his stomach curl as he envisioned her body once more. The image of her nudity proved to Boomer that the evil he was born into could crumble at the sensation of lust and the sight of a forbidden beauty.

Boomer loathed the lust, he wanted to murder the beauty. Even more, he _loathed _the fact that she was the only one he had ever laid with and _that _fact only made the hunger to murder her _grow_.

* * *

Her body trembled. His burning, barbaric hands grabbed at her wrists. He pulled them over her head, her body sprawled upon the street many feet away from the hospital. He climbed on top of her, his thirst for blood aching.

"So this is what it takes to shut you up?"

Blossom's legs began to lift, her knees bending.

"This is what I got to do to—!"

Blossom's incredible healing gave her enough power to finally retort. She mocked Brick's attack by gripping his thick hair, throwing him by the strands off of her bruised body. She looked up at the floating Brick who now promised himself to end her. The blood on her lips didn't cease to poor out of the cracks.

"No, Brick, is this what it takes to shut _you _up? Because you're in for a _real_ battle."

* * *

The two sisters felt the shake of the unknown impact of Blossom against the wall.

"Was that an earthquake?" Buttercup looked around, finding that the environment lay too quiet.

Bubbles' room was located on the highest floor, making Bubbles feel a slight worry.

"Everyone's outside and my window is open. They would have made _some_ noise,"

Before Buttercup could confirm the cause, Bubbles' hospital door ripped off its hinges. It was thrown in Buttercup's direction by one mighty hand. Bubbles brought her son to her chest, coming to face a clearly capable threat. Buttercup dodged the flying weapon by inches, facing the male who held a nurse captive in his hold.

"So these are the bitches _now_,"

He threw the nurse behind him, the crash upon the wall making her lifeless body fall heavily to the ground. Buttercup stared at the dead nurse before looking up to the vicious male. He ignored her blonde sister, eyes settled on her firm, built appearance. His fitness rivaled hers and the male anatomy proved to be more defined in muscles and strength.

Buttercup, with the knowledge of her sister's now limited abilities, immediately flew to fly Bubbles and her nephew to safety. But Butch never was caught off guard and he flew after Buttercup. Bubbles screamed as she witnessed her sister caught in the hands of the threatening man. His fingers bore into the skin of her ankles, pulling her to him.

Buttercup speedily latched onto the bed's frame, resisting the strength of her opponent. He growled in fury, a fist filled with brutal power being slammed into her waist. Buttercup let go of the frame as the injury's sting rushed through her nerves. Her whole body came crashing down to the ground. Butch dragged her by the ankles, drawing her weakened body closer and closer to the open window.

She was limp enough to fall. He lifted her up, throwing her out the window as Bubbles now became his priority. He faced her presence, smirking at the bundle in her arms.

"So _you're_ the one who got knocked up? Heh, innocent my _ass_,"

He headed toward her.

"Who _fucked_ you up?"

His moist skin twitching with every step.

"Ex-boyfriend?"

Bubbles was no match against the ruthless threat, not in the way her sister was.

"Dad—_fuck_!"

Butch laid his gaze on the bundle's visage. He must be _hallucinating_. The baby's face bore a striking resemblance to his small, incapable brother, Boomer. His eyes, as dark as Boomer's, stared directly at him. Butch tried to look away but as he stood purely taken in his place, the only sensation running through his body was the sensation to _kill Boomer_.

"Don't you hurt my baby! Don't you look at him!"

Butch finally ripped away, his brows narrowed as he found Bubbles' feared face. She sounded brave but Butch had seen past the greatest facade of bravery. Bubbles stood no chance in pretending before the uncontrollable, animal ruff.

"If you want to hurt anyone, hurt _me_! But don't you dare touch my baby..."

Butch had no time to respond, for a cloud of purple smoke entered the room. He met the face of a villain who once became his savior and father. The figure's wicked smile lifted and he paid no attention to Butch's form.

"Oh, dear, it won't be _Butch_ who takes your child,"

Bubbles could only mutter the name, "_Butch_," before her newborn son's cries alerted her of the enemy who peered above her.

His claw hand came down on her, striking her cold and knocking her out. The crying boy came into the warmth of HIM's arms. The devilish villain comforted the upset child, acknowledging the form of the matured, powerful Rowdyruff.

"If you want me to spare your life you'll find Brick and bring him to me," HIM disappeared in his purple cloud of smoke, reappearing inches away from Butch, "And you'll muster none of this knowledge to _Boomer_."


	3. Murderous

_**There aren't a lot of views to this story so I'll be focusing more on rewriting my previous story, "Little Wonders".**_

_**Scanned and read.**_

* * *

**Careful Blues**

Brick tore into Blossom's clothes with cannibalistic fists. His hatred for his ginger opposite ignited a flame that burned to be blown out. Brick's mighty punches dug into her stomach, legs, and entire being. She was now lower than he as he demonstrated his rage. This display should prove to her just who was stronger, wiser, and inevitable to become _victorious._

But Blossom would have it another way. She caught the fist of the sinister leader, using the balance to bring her foot above her to connect her heel with his face. She kicked at her enemy multiple times, never once succumbing to the damage he caused her. Brick counted the time between her kicks in his aching head, using the her slight pause to react.

His free fist came to block her chance at another successful kick. He shielded the side of his face as her kick came to stop abruptly against his hand. With his only other fist imprisoned, Brick brought his head fiercely against her own, butting her painfully. The attack made her balance falter and her leg drop.

She felt the weight of her body falling through the height they fought upon. Brick flew down at her falling frame, landing several more fists into her mid-section. The blood she coughed out landed upon his skin and clothes from gravity. Brick recalled all the memories of being the failure to a victorious enemy every time he battled against Blossom.

This would be his chance to rekindle the reputation of his younger self, who he could witness vividly in his memory: shunned, underestimated, and an utter joke. He was far more capable of defeating Blossom than Mojo, greater than HIM at belittling the Powerpuff Girls, and wiser than the Professor by eliminating his precious creation.

They may have respected him and they may have acknowledged his true potential but deep down, Brick knew they humored themselves behind his back by labeling him as _weak_. The end to those memories would occur today. He was going to pummel the wisest, toughest super hero _today_. And that super hero, _Blossom_, would be the first to see of his evolved power.

"I've had 'nough of you, _bitch_!"

* * *

HIM caressed the side of Butch's face with the tip of his claw, noting the tension that gripped his body. His muscles flexed, controlling their barbaric responses to HIM's touch. Butch didn't welcome the closeness of HIM's flesh against his own and he knew he possessed little control over his abusive personality. HIM didn't fear the depths of hell, let alone the roughest ruff. He could sense Butch's objection and when his claw reached down to his neck, the ruff finally snapped.

He pounced onto HIM, giving no care to the bundle he carried. He restrained his roaming claw, crushing his wrist in his grasp. HIM felt the nerves cry out and he muffled a wince with a satisfied smirk.

His voice purred, "My boy, how you've _grown_,"

Butch growled, "I ain't 'fraid to murder you, don't think you're an 'xception,"

"Exception? Hell, I believe I'm far _more _than that," he struck Butch in a mature, sensitive area, "I'm your _father_, boy, show me respect you brat!"

His hands came to his injury's defense. Butch looked up to HIM with an aggressive glare. He had become weak from the strike and he felt the need to vomit. HIM caressed the back of the now calm baby through his warm blanket, looking over all of his features.

The baby's eyes were definitely eyes of evil. They were intensely obscure, yet the hue of a faint blue was evident. His skin remained delicate after birth and HIM noted that this feature was taken from his mother. The girls' had gentler skin that made them vulnerable to cuts and bruises quicker than the boys. His faint hair was incredibly light and HIM found himself realizing that its color was a fusion of both shades from his parents.

"So the two brats actually _did_ share quite an _intimate _moment when they created you, didn't they?" HIM knew the response he'd receive was limited.

He picked up the boy's hand as softly as he could in the clutch of his open claw. He pressed down with little force, enough to pinch and puncture the boy's skin that took after his mother. The smell of blood was omniscient. He pressed down with more force, hoping to see the crimson liquid. The boy shifted in his hold, reacting to the pressure, but he hadn't punctured his skin. He pressed down with greater force, believing if he added any more he'd break all the bones in his tiny hand.

"My—_my,_" he snapped up into a wide grin, "You truly are _indestructible_,"

Butch overheard HIM's analysis of the new born. He met HIM's eyes with his wide grin remaining plastered on his face.

"You'll have Brick do me the dirty work of killing off your brother,"

"What makes you think Brick's gonna do that for _you_?"

"Idiot boy," HIM laughed, "He won't be doing it for _me_, he'll be doing it for _you_,"

"He'd kill me b'fore I can finish akin'! You won't make me!"

"I can feel the want to end your shameful brother's life from the pulse in your veins," HIM lowered himself to Butch's gaze, "He's betrayed the evil you three share—he's betrayed _you—_by conceiving this child, and unless you want to feel the consequence of begging to save your brother's life, you'd make the right choice in killing him,"

Butch's heart pounded. Would he really fulfill HIM's murderous duty of murdering Boomer? Butch had erased Boomer's link of being his brother long ago and viewed Boomer as nothing but a liability to him and his true brother, Brick. Now that he knew he had created a child with one of their only enemies, he had more of a reason to end Boomer's life.

"You haven't become lower than the animal you truly are, haven't you, Butch?"

Butch breathed heavily, confused at the hint of hesitation he felt. Although the thrill of murdering one who had betrayed their very place as his own partner, and once _brother,_ surged throughout his body.

"You're _twitching, _Butch."

The thrill overpowered the hesitation.

* * *

The Professor panicked in the arms of his daughter, Buttercup. She regained her strength after colliding with the rough cement of the street below. The Professor had fallen beside her in a fit of sobs, coughing out all he had witnessed to his recovering daughter. Buttercup watched the skies for any sign of Brick or Blossom's colors.

The sky was clear with no hint of pink or crimson. She made her final decision to search for her sister, fearing the worst may have happened to her well being. The Professor held his daughter back, letting her know that she needed to stay here and protect her sister.

"_Bubbles_!"

Her sister's name made her regain her memories of the encounter. She now broke away from the Professor's hold, preparing to launch herself to the highest level of the hospital to protect her family. The timing was too late as a purple cloud appeared in the center of the crowd. The event caught Buttercup's attention and she shouted once she noticed the blue bundle in the arms of the devil.

Standing beside the devil was a man who could have passed as his beast: Butch. Buttercup met his stare, snarling at her older enemy. The two equally uncontrollable, equally aggressive opposites glued on to each others' piercing stares. HIM stalked the path leading to Buttercup.

The Professor squeaked, "_Is that my little hero?_"

"_Oh_, I'm afraid he'll be far worse than that,"

Buttercup spoke to HIM, glaring at Butch, "Let my nephew _go_."

"If I let him go, he'll fall and we wouldn't want that to happen,"

"_Hand him over_," Buttercup forgot the twitching her counterpart suffered.

He twitched as if he was nothing more than a hungry beast, waiting for his signal to pounce on his meal. Buttercup knew whenever he'd receive his signal, she'd be his meal.

"I couldn't possibly do that," HIM enjoyed the rising tension between the two, "Butch,"

Buttercup pointed to Butch, "I'll kick your ass after I'm done with _his_,"

"_Kill_ her."


	4. Protective

**_I'll continue with small updates. But I'm afraid I'm making this too horrific? Nope!_**

* * *

**Careful Blues**

"Give it up, _bitch_, just realize that this is it."

Through beaten eyes, she faced the current victor. He grumbled as each step he took stung at his knees. His newfound pride forbade him from collapsing, and Blossom's bloody state gave him encouragement to keep on his feet. Her paralyzed limbs let him have his boost by lying under his towering body.

He grazed one glance at her before coughing madly. In his hand, once he rubbed it onto his jeans, lay the remnants of his body's vulnerability. The tinted liquid stained his tattered clothing, almost matching Blossom's image.

Neither leader embraced defeat. Blossom arose from her back, ignoring the argument from her disturbed body. Ending their battle now, after nearing an hour of abuse and retort, would give Brick a chance to return to her peaceful home.

There was no destruction Brick could possibly deal in his state, but Blossom was a woman of doubt and wouldn't trust her enemy's act of weakness. If Brick submitted to his injuries now, Blossom would remain in her heroic position to keep him far from Townsville.

Both leaders, remembering where their duties lay, gathered all energy left to charge at each other. Their dirty, red fibers flew behind them, tangling with the mane of their counterpart on impact. Every part of their beings fought. Their clothes rippled onto each other as their locks tangled and freed themselves in the wind.

Blossom defended her home in each throw, while Brick retaliated in each flying fist. Their minds focused on strategy but neither could out master the other. Their own minds collided with hate and absent truth. He landed a fist to her chest, and he watched her go limp once more.

It should have been the end. The breath escaping her dying lungs should have silenced her. But Blossom was just as stubborn, just as dignified, and just as prideful as the sadistic Brick. And for Blossom, no amount of evil could pummel her to the ground victoriously. Not even evil in its truest form.

* * *

HIM triumphantly fled the hospital area with a kidnapped baby in his arms. He kept him safe, protected the boy from the demons of hell. It proved to question the devil's motives. No kidnapper would place his victim's safety before his own.

"You'll be my last hope,"

Yet HIM had plans set in motion. He had watched over Bubbles from the very beginnings of her teenage years. The glint in her eyes from each secretive glance toward the disgraceful ruff had caught his attention. He was betting, _hoping_, on a miracle that would only happen in an alternate world.

He also hoped that Boomer was wiser than he seemed. He wanted to witness this stained, sinister blonde refuse the lust his equal harbored for him. But as he watched on at their last moments of battle, the heat between their beaten bodies had captured the ruff's sanity.

The devil was an unknowing spectator to the affair. His eyes roamed the broken passion the teenagers engaged in. Their naive minds had ignored their identities and loyalties to the light of good and the obscurity of evil. With a touch and kiss, the teenagers would bring forth the result of consequence made by their naive mistake.

"But if mommy and daddy hadn't been so foolish, I wouldn't have you to fulfill my brilliant plan,"

Warmly, the boy yawned before falling deeper into the arms of the devil.

"And you'll succeed, my boy, because you won't know you're mommy and daddy," he held the boy in a loving hold of corrupt warmth, "Especially mommy. She has given me a miracle."


	5. Wake

**_They will get longer, I promise. I find myself needing a good practice on writing fighting scenes._**

**_Scanned and read._**

* * *

**Careful Blues**

Her vision blurred. The sights around her became a watered painting, her orbs sinking into an ocean of pain. Her charcoal haired opponent never paused from his attacks. With fist of turmoil, he connected each punch to her face and chest. Every contact knocked the oxygen right out of her lungs—a feeling she grew used to after many vicious battles.

But this opponent was her equal. He was just as impatient and mighty. His male form pounced onto her body with savage claws like a beast. He attacked her feverishly, enjoying the image of her broken skin. Her might had now taken its dosage of weakness and she reached for an escape.

Her knee dove deeply into his gut, causing him to flinch at the collision. He coughed madly taking precious time away from his attacks. Buttercup's fingers caught the material of his shirt, bringing his figure downward to impact the cement. His built, super body against the hard cement created a path of crumbled street.

His narrowed gaze was inseparable to the aggression in her look. Amazingly, her expression never twitched (unlike his own reaction to aggression) and it showed that she was in control of her impulses. Butch snickered under her hold, laughing as she pulled him up by the collar of his shirt, slamming him back down onto the pavement.

She didn't participate in his vile humor. Buttercup slammed him with intense hatred. The power never caused him to flinch. His evil lungs breathed out his continuous laughter, and once she raised her elbow to prepare to deal greater damage, he silenced himself to grab her by the strands. He gripped onto a handful of her short locks, pulling her down to him.

"I'll _kill_ you," he closed a fist over her neck, "I'll be the end of you."

Buttercup struggled against her enemy, knowing he was wrong. She was his equal and the goodness in her heart, and the will to protect her family, would be _his_ demise.

* * *

Bubbles slowly regained consciousness. She awoke to the horrific body of the nurse, the moments leading up to her death flooding her mind. The flashbacks reminded her of her empty arms. Glancing down to her cold hands, she buried her sobs in their crevices, sensing the little warmth her had son left.

She tore the blankets of the bed off of her. Walking to the window, she faced down to see the sea of citizens. She hadn't known that they were holding one another in fear. She was nude beneath her hospital robes and she trembled in her steps searching for garments.

"_Ah_!" She winced, falling onto an IV.

The medication stock on wheels rode away from her weight, leaving Bubbles to meet the hard tile floor. The sudden fall intensified the ache, a now searing pain crawling onto her knees and echoing along her side. No new mother should be in this predicament—lonely, shaken—that Bubbles found herself in.

For a woman laced with Chemical X, the mixture in her blood did little to comfort the aftermath of child birth. She desperately needed to recover. She needed to save her creator, he sisters, Townsville, and most importantly, her son.

And the worst aspect of her encouragement to remove herself from the floor was the need to protect her son from his own father.


	6. Threat

_**Guest's Response: Oh, I love, love the reds, so don't you question that. What you should question is just how dark of a romance will bloom because believe me, I'm into a dark romance between our heated couple.**_

_**Scanned and read.**_

* * *

**Careful Blues  
**

Surrounded by nature, Blossom landed on her spine. For her fragile body, the fall nailed her to the earth. Not an ounce of energy lay in her bones. Chemical X began to work its wonders but she had allowed herself to be injured brutally by Brick, and the healing would take too long. Pink, focused eyes attached to Brick's fallen outline. The ruff had presented all he could in battle before he reached a similar fate.

They had waved their white flags in silence. Brick hadn't won and Blossom hadn't lost. The wisest among leaders, sisters, and brothers couldn't avoid the reality of an eventual defeat. They both lay upon the grass far–_very far_—from each other. Brick ignored the frankness of his predicament. He simply couldn't accept this version of a loss.

He'd collect his energy before she did, he knew of it, but Blossom forced herself to rise. Brick sensed the movement in the soil, snarling. Despite her injuries, she launched herself into the air. He was abandoned to the quietness of nature. He had been so sure that he'd gather the energy to fly before the wench, but she had served to prove him wrong.

Once the life to his muscles returned, he would _hunt her down_.

* * *

Boomer pressed his back to an intact tree trunk. The churl and twisting of his stomach gave him the freedom to rest. He leaned all his weight backward, wandering off into the realm of sleep. If it weren't for a coarse grunt he would have already begun dreaming.

He separated from the tree. The grunts arose to sound desperate. Boomer listened carefully, a feeling of familiarity to the sounds. He stepped over Fuzzy's body to track down the sound's exact spot. They grew in volume as he came closer, the sounds sounding frustrated.

"_Ah..Oh..Uh—oh!—I'll fuck that bitch_!"

Boomer discovered the location of the sounds. The maker struggled to support his weight on his sprained ankles. He watched his leader balance himself upright the best he could. Brick had suffered enough and Boomer made his way to his side.

Boomer greeted him with, "Shut up." as he lifted his arm over his shoulder.

Brick hadn't regained the life to tear from his brother, who to him, was nothing more than his subordinate. He let his body make the decisions and it decided to accept Boomer's aid. He led him to a nearby tree, throwing his leader upon the ground. Brick's mouth open to emit no sound to the pain surging from the uncaring aid of Boomer. He hoisted Brick up easily to sit upright against a tree.

"Did you run into a fucking super powered bear?"

The result of Boomer's harsh aid had left Brick to suffer more. When he realized that Brick was in no state to converse, he looked away. An overhead eagle entertained him during the healing time. Eagles weren't a rare sight in the forest and Moji always said that Boomer had the same courage and bravery as an eagle. Boomer sighed, a side of him tugging him away in the other direction. Then there was the other side, which pressed for a sign of gratitude. The blonde was aware that he'd act in favor to neither side.

"No," Brick's voice emerged, "I ran into the queen of the trio of bitches."

Boomer's pulse dropped. There was a skip of a beat beneath his chest.

"And guess what? One of them's got a little fucker."

Brick wouldn't know the severity of this insight until he would be faced with a deadly task by his long lost surrogate father.

* * *

Floating screens came into HIM's view. He sniffed the musky air, a content grin tickling his face. Home was the only safe haven; home's safety would be much needed in the days to come. Within HIM's sanctuary were flat screens that saw into the happenings of the world. These screens would allow him to keep updated on the outcome of today's events.

He would remain in his home until the boy matured. None of the living knew of his home and HIM was secure, certain that he'd raise the stolen boy to serve him. He was by far the most powerful creation he had ever held and it didn't require any intelligence to capture it. Muffling gurgles of comfort came from the new born.

HIM was certain that he'd be the most comfortable in his _new _home alongside his _new _father.

* * *

"My baby...," she stumbled across the tile, her fingertips doing their best to cling onto the marble counters, "_Baby_...,"

Her head spun. The hallway morphed into a hypnotic twirl. Bubbles continued to stumble, the Chemical X's faint healing beginning to ease her arms. After her most brutal battles against colossal sea monsters, Mojo's overgrown inventions, and many more cruel enemies, Bubbles had always healed within minutes.

She was now healing at a rate past an hour. With the loss of so much time, Bubbles feared she'd be too late to rescue her whole world.

* * *

"_What kind of a shit joke is this_!" Boomer had taken advantage of his leader's limpness.

Brick suffocated under his brother's crushing hold.

"_Are you spitting out bullshit or is this true_!"

Brick's lips touched to begin to respond. Through Boomer's dominance, Brick would never beg for mercy Or bow down to begin to beg. Saliva began to seep from his open mouth tha t was now moving in the same motions of a fish. Brick had incredible pride: he would _never_ _beg_.

"This better be _bullshit_," Boomer tightened his hold before tearing off of his leader.

Brick gasped—gagged—putting a hand to his uneasy stomach. He was sure the contents would surface and he'd faint as he vomited. Boomer fixed his eyes on his pained leader.

"Don't tell me you're _that _weak!"

"_Fuh..._," Brick's curse ended before it began. He spit out his insides upon the grass.

Boomer lifted the corner of his upper lip.

"You really are nothing but _bark_, aren't you?"

Brick's sickness came once more and Boomer stood up. He gave a swift blow to Brick's side with the tip of his foot, watching him succumb onto the ground. Fuzzy's torture flashed in Boomer's mind.

"It must be a change for you when someone other than queen bitch is fucking you up." His heel turned, "I hope she fucking kills you before I do."

* * *

**_Boomer's hate for his brother is growing... Why is that?_**


	7. Mojo (Part One)

_**Finding the time to scan and read through my stories is tougher than ever. These updates will be constant but the overviews won't be until after the chapters are up.**_

_**Scanned and read (watch for this to know that this chapter has been edited in the best way and free of any errors).**_

* * *

**Careful Blues  
**

Frantically, the Professor ran to his home. Avoiding the destruction by his daughter and her opponent proved to be simple. His home faced in the opposite direction and the Professor was safe to escape the brutality. Coming nearer to his home, his mind did the best it could to make sense of the actions he would take on next.

Yelling raged through his mind, scolding him for the decision he was about to make. Mojo had calmed down years ago before the girls had began attending Poaky Oats High School. He explained his choice as a simple choice of peace. Age was inevitable and Mojo's joints, muscles, and body were no exception to age. He found it a challenge to awake early in the mornings to plan out the girls' doom.

But today, _today _the Professor would be seeking Mojo's wake to plead for the first time the girls' _need_ for their once great, animal enemy. Mojo was the only other intelligence within Townsville who could collaborate with the Professor to end the chaos boiling within the terrified town. To save his girls and his little hero, the Professor would see to it that he'd make an ally out of Mojo.

* * *

A brave bystander to Buttercup and Butch's brawl ran toward the locked beings. Being a young wrestler, the bystander foolishly believed he'd stand up to the might the built Rowdyruff harbored. The young man had been an admirer of Buttercup since high school. Much to his dismay, Buttercup knew nothing of his crush or existence. His heart raced with each step and the wrestler had a deep, trembling feeling.

That wouldn't stop him from protecting her. Finding himself beside the two, he swiftly landed a punch to the ruff's face. Buttercup had been in his choke hold for too long, her legs shaking after dealing all she could in hits to her counterpart. Seeing that Butch had been punched by someone other than herself, and seeing that Butch gave no response other than turning his attention to the wrestler, Buttercup was released of from his choking hold.

Butch raised himself off the street, looking down at the wrestler who barely reached the height of his chest. Through her coughs, Buttercup witnessed the muscles on Butch's back contract to lift the wrestler off his feet by the head, his hand big enough to cover the top of the wrestler's head.

Blood began flowing down the wrestler's face as Butch's hold tightened. Compared to his brother's, Butch had an incredible strength that a pinch for Butch was the equivalent to an iron hold. The pressure he used to crush the wrestler's head was beyond that of a pinch for the wrestler.

"You sick bastard—_monster_!"

Butch looked over his shoulder. He gave no reply to her spurs. Merely, he faced back to the unfortunate wrestler. His keen senses felt Buttercup's fight response. Lunging toward Butch to rescue the wrestler caused Butch to chuckle deeply.

He presented the man as a trophy for Buttercup to marvel at, "Give _this_ monster a prize."

* * *

"What is _this_? You're already _flying_?"

Awestruck, HIM looked on at the infant, who had awoken after a _ten minute _nap. The baby had lifted himself from the heat of his blanket and was now flying, giggling around his new home. HIM took a seat in him arm chair, basking in the show. Unable to look away, HIM began jotting down all the possible ways he could rule the world with this child.

Although he'd be waiting years until the child was old enough to control himself, he wouldn't waste any time in knowing the boy's strengths. He can fly smoothly, as if he knew just where to go, when to slow down, and when to increase speed. Astounded, HIM sank into the leather of his chair.

For once, the devil was grateful for the Powerpuff Girls, one in particular. He was also grateful that he viewed the puff as nothing more than dirt. This view would be passed on to the growing infant. It would make things much easier for the boy when he revealed to him the true identity of the woman after he murdered her with his own cold hands.

"Yes, you'll feel no remorse this way, my boy."

A tinge of doubt arose in the pit of HIM's chest. Had the boy inherited his father's darkness? Had the boy been born with _emotions_ like his mother? Or worse, was the boy bound to develop emotions _and _cruelty? HIM glared at the boy. If he would grow to develop signs of darkness and emotions, then the boy would be capable of acting upon his own feelings rather than following orders.

This outcome could ruin HIM's confident objectives.

Growling, HIM pulled down the flying infant by his ankle, "_No_. You will be raised in hell and you will be your mother's demon!"

* * *

_**That poor wrestler... If only he lived to tell Buttercup the motive behind his bravery.**_

_**Will Bubbles and Boomer's son grow to possess Bubbles' sweetness or Boomer's sour evil? Well, Boomer's evil is quite questionable in the cartoons...**_


	8. Mojo (Part Two)

_**Listening to, "Frozen Creek" by Circa Survive really affects my writing... Music is my muse, my motivation... But I listen to too many tragic songs.**_

_**Scanned and read.**_

* * *

**Careful Blues  
**

Overshadowed by his envy, Mojo rejected the Professor's pleas. Professor's wavering voice, pushing through his own sobs, begged for Mojo to reconsider. Mojo scoffed on the other line as he bluntly repeated his response. There would never be enough persuasion from the Professor to change the monkey's mind. He refused.

"Please, Mojo!"

Mojo stretched on the other end, giving no care to the catastrophic voice on the other line, "No."

"Mojo, you are my _only_ hope... I know you aren't this evil,_ I_ know _you_ know that, you just need to give this more thought! _Please_!"

Through the course of many years, Mojo would never think twice that the evil to his personality was anything but an illusion. The Professor was ludicrous for believing otherwise.

Mojo poured himself a glass of milk, "Professor, do you really think I would spend almost the entirety of my life dedicated to defeating _our_ creations if I wasn't _truly _evil?"

"I just—_I just know_!" Professor Utonium's disturbing, snotty sobs were heard after his cries.

Mojo took a sip of his creamy drink, "The only thing you know is that _you _are the cause of my objection. If only you hadn't accepted those females over me, then I would have agreed."

"Chose the—"

"But even then, I _hate you_! You worthless man! Don't call back! I am not in the mood to be disturbed by your idiotic pleas!"

"_Mojo, please_!" Professor dropped the phone the moment he heard the dial tone.

* * *

In the image on the flat screen, the devil snickered at the broken scientist. He had attempted to gain an ally to defeat _him_! And the best ally the scientist could find was the primitive inventor.

"Mojo side with the Powerpuffs to defeat _me_? Preposterous!" the home shook with his cackling, "The only way that baboon would ever defeat me is if he envisioned me as a_ banana_! Then his true ape character would surface!"

On another monitor, the inside of Mojo's dome appeared. He was sipping his milk as if he was brought up with etiquette. HIM scoffed, eying the changing expression on Mojo's face. His eyes drooped, his forehead hardened, and his milk shook as he fought with himself internally. HIM continued to watch the monkey battle with his inner thoughts.

He brushed a hand upon the phone, "_Father_...,"

HIM spat, "He _wouldn't dare_."

* * *

A faint, pained feeling had reached his cold heart. And it was determined to shake his evil mind. Mojo lifted the phone from its stand, dialing a number rapidly. It rang for far too long and Mojo prepared to slam the phone down until someone answered.

Mojo cut to the chase, "Princess, you will do as I say or I will blast your house with your precious papa inside!"

"_Mojo_? You're joking! Calling to threaten my wonderful father? Have you forgotten that I, _too_, won't hesitate in blasting _your _home!" Princess exploded into laughter.

Mojo sneered, "I wouldn't be threatening death upon your father unless I already sorted everything out, trust me, if you deny this order then I will make to it that he will be blasted the very second you hang up!"

Princess gasped, her voice caught in her throat.

"Now listen, you spoiled female! You will purchase me the very finest assembly of nuclear weapons and have them delivered to me before the day is over." Mojo tore the phone from his ear, only mouth pressed against the plastic, "And I _know_ this won't be a problem for you."

* * *

Her voice returned, "And just _why _would you need _nuclear_ weapons, you unwanted _pet_!"

Mojo had already ended their phone call. Princess threw the phone, sending it flying across the room. She released a shout of fury. Her butler burst into the room. Worry spread on his face, he shook as he approached the youngest Morbucks.

"Princess, darling—"

"_Shut it_!" Princess ruffled her fiery afro, "Phone daddy and tell him to stay at work. I've got _business_ to handle."

* * *

_**Princess is now a part of this? Is there a reason Mojo didn't give any more detail regarding his request? **_

_**And lastly, just how will our fiery, spoiled Princess react knowing she is helping the Powerpuff Girls?... Or is she?  
**_


	9. Mojo (Final Part)

_**My mom decided we'd make Tostadas, and as I ate and wrote this chapter, she insist I read it aloud. My Mother... She majored in English and for that, she's my biggest critic ("Sammy, your writing is too monotonous. Gerunds would suit the story better." – "Ok, Mom, thank-you for your review.")**_

_**Scanned and read.**_

* * *

**Careful Blues**

Princess strapped on her metal boots. She pondered on driving, but the threatening voice of Mojo prompted her to fly, instead. Flying would cut the time it took to drive in half. Arriving there would only take minutes, a minute at the most. She clothed herself professionally, ready to purchase the nuclear weapons Mojo desired.

She had no choice but to do this to protect her father. Otherwise, she'd stand her ground and make the monkey scram. Pushing past her butler, Princess set to the skies in her super powered boots, but not before placing her cell phone securely in her pocket.

Wind brushed through her curls, loosening their tightness. She would need to gussy up a bit in the lady's room before meeting with the Government Officials. Her objective, however, was too easy. The Mayor would agree to give her whatever she wished. Her class, wealth, and father's name would be enough to purchase the nuclear weapons for Mojo.

Finally arriving at the building, Princess unstrapped her boots before climbing the steps. Her inventing abilities improved during her adolescence. As a child, most of her inventions went haywire. Now, she was able to better her inventions without the possibility of them being destroyed or malfunctioning. She even made her favorite inventions portable with the ability to became pocket-sized (her boots being one of her many portable inventions).

"Miss Morbucks?"

Princess greeted a dumbfounded desk hostess. The middle-aged hostess had heard of the infamous Morbucks' heiress but had yet to meet her in person. Magazines and blogs described the daughter as being striking, nearing the beauty of the ginger Powerpuff. Staring at the young lady, the woman closed her parting mouth.

"_Miss Morbucks_! Why, how can I assist you today?" she prepared a pen and paper, also reading about her numerous desires. Princess was no stranger when it came to _demanding _for favors.

"_You _aren't part of my business affairs. Stay out of this, I'll assist myself in finding the Mayor."

A biting reply from Princess made the hostess shiver. Spinning her office chair around, she hurried to her feet. Her heels tapped the shiny, reflecting floor. Princess frowned as the hostess ushered closer.

Still shivering under Princess' stare, the hostess approached her, "But Miss Morbucks, I have been asked to escort those who wish to speak to the Mayor. You see, he's in protective hold at the moment and the guards won't allow anyone near him."

"Protective hold?"

"Yes, haven't you heard?"

Taking the innocent question as an insult, Princess attacked, "Are you calling me stupid!"

"Miss—I—No!" she attempted to calm Princess' rising hand, "Please, Miss Morbucks!"

Her hand came square across the hostess' cheek. Fixing the sleeve of her suit and brushing aside her cruel action, Princess walked over to a nearby mirror. Her appearance was disheveled from the flight and she quickly began tidying up her wild locks. Flickering her eyes to the hostess' reflection behind her, she scoffed. She had rushed to dial the guards to the lobby after her assault.

Once the guards arrived, her heels brought her to the safety of the men, "_She _is acting terribly, Sara!"

Within the middle of the many guards, Miss Bellum surfaced. She wrapped her arms around the frightened hostess. Gently, she pushed the hostess away and into the arms of a guard. Miss Bellum's masked expression set on the spoiled Princess.

"Princess, may I ask why you're here?"

"Does no one understand simple English? I am here to settle _my _business and that doesn't include anyone besides me and the Mayor!"

Miss Bellum, knowing of Princess' past affiliations with evil, took it upon herself to keep the Mayor's location secret. Remembering the jealousy Princess held for the girls, the Professor's smile flashed before her eyes. While she watched the return of the boys on television, she had become overwhelmed with worry for the scientist. Princess' arrival was too suspicious. Miss Bellum new Princess wasn't present under coincidence.

"Now you listen to me, young lady. Whatever business you have with the Mayor, you best show yourself out of this building because you won't be settling any business _today_."

"Is that so?" Princess' eyes became dark, her hand reaching into her pocket to fumble with a handy, portable invention, "Then it looks like I'll have to _find _the Mayor the _hard_ way."

* * *

Mojo looked on upon the sight of Townsville. Through his window, he could see the buildings crumbling from the power of attacks. Knowing that his boys had returned to Townsville, Mojo knew who was destroying Townsville. Many buildings had crumbled to the ground and Townsville was resembling an apocalyptic city rather than a metropolis. He looked away, pacing back and forth.

"Curse these wretched emotions!" he raised a shaking fist in the air, "Curse those _girls_!"

He landed onto his knees. Recalling Professor's pleas, he found himself fighting against his rising tears. How could his own father ask him to work alongside the very girls who took away any hope of happiness from him? Mojo crashed his fist into the ground. No longer able to cage his tears, he allowed himself to _cry_. Freezing liquid fell down the slopes of his cheeks, dampening to the fur on his chin.

"Wretched females! Wretched _brats_!"

Opening his eyes to a blurred vision, Mojo arose from his knees. If he were to make a truce with his enemies, then he would need to be certain they win. Mojo would never accept defeat from the girls and would neither accept defeat _with _the girls. He had made his decision. Facing regret for this choice would haunt him in the years to come, but for now, Mojo began working on a plan to ensure victory.

Wiping away his cold tears, Mojo stomped to his beloved creation. A robot that could withstand the girls' unbelievable strength. Seating himself inside the chamber, he flicked a power switch, resurrecting his cobwebbed covered robot. Controlling the gears in the chamber, Mojo opened the glass ceiling of his dome home. Charging the rocket in his robot's boots, he sent it to the skies.

"_Ha_! Ha-ha! Mojo's inventions never _die_!" he cackled wickedly at the impressive robot.

Even after sitting in a lonesome corner, the robot still packed incredible maneuvering. The movements were fluid and near perfect. He set the direction toward the crumbling buildings.

"Those brats won't stop until one of them drops dead," Mojo held a finger over his launch button, "It's time to revive my reputation and perhaps this time, I won't be thrown in a jail cell."

* * *

_**Just what invention will Princess be using to find the Mayor? Will Miss Bellum be able to protect the Mayor, the girls, and the Professor from Princess?**_

_**...And just what plans does Mojo have in store that will secure the Powerpuff Girls' victory?  
**_


	10. Memories

**Please Read**

_**Remember darling readers, that for every horror story, the author is a mere narrator of suspense. With suspense comes questions, bringing the reader to ask, "Why would she do this? Doesn't she know the killer is out there?" and similar questions. **_

_**For horror stories, the title is always (if not the) most important aspect of the story and sometimes a question on it's own. Take the talented Stephen King, whose talent serves as an inspiration for this story, and his novel "Cujo." When reading that title, you stop and think, "Just who or what is Cujo?"**_

_**This story is no different... "Careful Blues" is almost a warning, isn't it? As the narrator and author of this story who oversees all, I must warn our blondes. "Careful Blues, there's more consequences to come..."**_

_**I've helped you by giving you obvious questions but for more obscure, essential questions, I have left those for you to form on your own... **_

_**So ask yourself, if Those-carrots believes they've revealed the ending, why would Princess agree to purchase the weapons in the first place if her own life was in danger? Wouldn't that ruin any possibility of saving her father if they would all die? And if nuclear weapons can cause total annihilation... just what exactly does Mojo have planned?**_

_**Thank-you for reading my author's note.**_

_**Scanned and read.**_

* * *

**Careful Blues**

An ear shattering yell tore through Buttercup's lungs. Lodged within her stomach was a large piece of broken glass. By now, they had brawled for such an amount of time, they were fighting far from the hospital grounds. Throwing her from building to building, Buttercup became Butch's rag doll. She crashed through windows that were designed to be bullet proof and Butch proved to deal a much more intense affliction than that of a bullet.

Broken wall, glass, and rubble blew into the rooms of the buildings along with Buttercup's ill body. He cracked the bones in his neck, viewing this out pour of power as improvement with Buttercup serving as a practice doll. Kneeling down by her side, he grinned at the harm his very hands caused her. Using her flat palms, she struggled to lift herself under his penetrating stare. His own _eyes_ were harming her.

"C'mon," Butch sucked in a breath, spitting on the ground inches away from Buttercup, "You've almost got it! Get up!"

Panting with shaking arms and legs, she fought against her state.

"_Man_, this sure as hell should tell you to give up,"

Buttercup did all she could to ignore her increasing pain. She was allowing for Butch to bask in her weakness. This wasn't the tough, iron woman she had grown to become. This was a submissive, faulty act of a woman who allowed herself to be abused. She wasn't a Powerpuff because she was a _quitter_. She was a Powerpuff because she was a _confident _champion.

"_Quiet_,"

Butch aimed his spit at her face, "Whadge'ya say?" he watched the struggle to rise and speak, "Do they call you the toughest puff for shits and giggles?"

"Yeah," she exhaled, "They haven't seen what I'm capable of."

Buttercup wasn't about to bite her tongue. His underestimation of her had given her the physical strength to live up to her name. Removing the glass from her stomach with burning hands, she pounced on him, breaking the glass in the process. She reached for the two pieces, stabbing his wrists into the ground. Reaching for more pieces, she rapidly retrieved any she could find then stabbing his vital areas. She stabbed him in the arms, legs, feet, and out of rage, stabbed him in the chest.

Missing by centimeters, she stabbed through his ribcage and into his lung, salvaging his heart. He suffered beneath her. Buttercup brought her hands together, rubbing them slowly. She closed her eyes in concentration. Her palms began to rise in temperature. Butch watched a creation of fire forming within Buttercup's palms. Buttercup sunk the growing fire deep into his chest with extreme force.

It had been a small fire ball due to Buttercup's destructive state. He would have kicked and punched his way out of the intolerable burning of the fire ball, but was held down by his injured lung and pinned limbs. He gave into the loud groans of pain once he could no longer withstand the temperature.

Feeling her palms grow cold and Butch losing consciousness, Buttercup dropped her head. Her shoulders fell as she leaned forward. She, too, was nearing unconsciousness, her memories of her nephew rushing through her. The love for her sister inspired her to face her strongest enemy in order to save her son.

Unknowing to her nephew's kidnapping, Buttercup felt a sense of victory wash over her. Sitting on Butch's wait, looking down at his lifeless body, she saw it safe to remove the glass protruding from his chest. Dropping it to the side in arm's reach, she fell upon his hard chest. It was incredibly warm, close to being hot enough to sooth her aching muscles. His heat had risen after her painful attack.

Sinking into his warmth, her eye lids became heavy. She fought against her sleepiness, knowing if she slumbered this close to her enemy, she'd be vulnerable. His steady heart made her give in to closing her eyes. She was remaining aware of her surroundings, resting partially with closed eyes. His scent made her mind begin to wander off to the memories of their brawls.

Smelling of sweat, power, and blood, Buttercup lifted her head to clear her nostrils. With the bridge of her nose brushing along the line of his chin, she stopped her movements. Choosing not to risk waking him up, she kept at remaining still. The hard touch of his mature Adam's Apple moved within his throat as he breathed. His juvenile features were now defined; his nose was long, his chin masculine, and his hair grew to be tied above his head in a messy bun.

Buttercup wished she'd be in the safety of her home where she could sleep away the discomfort of being so close. Sensing a shift and a disturbed growl in his throat, Buttercup raised her orbs and glanced back up at his face. His thick, black eyebrows angled, and she noticed his teeth coming down on his bottom lip. He may have felt her weight on his wound even in his sleep. She made no effort to remove herself and ease his pain.

"I hope you're feeling the pain," she uttered, "You deserve it."

She pictured her toddler self in a memory that for Buttercup, somehow connected itself to this moment. Mrs. Keane requested for the Professor to take part in a parent conference. Buttercup had been tasked with bringing her creator to the classroom to discuss private issues. Having just beaten an innocent classmate to a near concussion, Buttercup did her best to get on his pleasing side. She washed dishes, completed her homework, and even wore pink socks for Blossom (who knew the meaning behind her change of attitude).

Taking on the roll of the perfect, kind Powerpuff hadn't been beneficial. On the arrival of their scheduled meeting, Mrs. Keane asked of Buttercup to wait for the Professor outside the classroom. She could hear her teacher's worry and a hint of fear in her voice. What occurred after had imprinted itself forever in her memory. Being a child at the time, an upset parent came just as close as an ending world. The Professor punished her by taking away her privilege to fight the threats of Townsville. He also ordered her to visit the boy in the hospital, ready to apologize to both he and his family.

Fluorescent lights aligned the ceiling of the hospital. As she entered the boy's room, his horrid, bruised skin became a nightmare. Upon seeing her, the boy cowered in his bed. He began to yell, terrified at the green, little girl. Rushing at the sounds of his screams, his mother began comforting her child, shielding his eyes from Buttercup's figure.

Crystal clear, the mother's shouts came to her ears, "_It's that evil Powerpuff! To believe that I once felt safe in this city because of you! If only I had known I was living in the same city as a monster!_"

Lost in her memory, Buttercup's cheeks felt her freed tears. A river began falling from her shaking eyes, landing on the tattered shirt of the hard chest she trembled on. Butch's face, his narrowed eyebrows, his bitten lip, it all brought back an image that haunted her.

"I'm sorry...," she repeated out of her memory, "_I'm sorry_..."

Part of her knew he'd hear the sounds of her greatest weakness. Knowing this, she began silencing herself to whisper the words, before realizing how gullible she was to apologizing despite her iron nature. More memories thus surfaced on the beginnings to her life, a moment of understanding her physical power, and releasing her anger on Rocko Socko. Ushering another apology from her memory upon her sleeping enemy, she closed her eyes doing all she could to erase his image from her mind.

Another memory came to, but this one was different. This one reminded her of her pride—it also included Butch. The Rowdyruff's very first defeat reminded her that his current injuries were well deserved. She regained her tough attitude and blinked away her tears. The change came slowly as her memory touched the events of that day. However, once the feel of her lips came to his cheek in her memory, her fist arose to punch Butch's rough cheek.

Unaware of the control her memories had over her, Butch stirred from the attack. Buttercup stiffened; her heightened senses were attentive to his every move. Incredibly, he hadn't lifted an eyelid. She hesitantly began to relax in his warmth, suddenly feeling worse against his body.

* * *

The citizens of Townsville scurried to their homes. Some began to pack once they burst through their front doors. Others chose to hide underground in home-built bunkers. In fear, they remained close to their families. All except one scientist who sobbed alone in his living room.

Realizing that Mojo was stern on his response, the Professor began drafting a plan of his own. In the back of his mind, he questioned the security of Bubbles. He cried at the cowardly decision of running home instead of searching for her in the hospital. Breaking the tip of his pencil and rising from his knees, he rubbed the tears off his face. He hadn't used the cloth of his sleeve, using the bottom of his palms, instead. The hard skin angrily dried his cheeks.

Inwardly, the Professor knew the importance of formulating a plan. Yet his crammed mind shook his focus. His daughter's current safety was far more important than the need to plan out any counters to their situation. At this point, the Professor worried less about his broken lead and more about his daughter.

But the Professor would need to hurry. For Bubbles had fallen upon the tile floor once more, and with no nearby support in the empty hospital hallways, she was left unable to rise.

* * *

_**Will he arrive in time? How much control does Buttercup's memories have over her? **_

_**We now know Buttercup's greatest weakness... When will we know of Butch's?**_


	11. Start

_**Reviewing my plot chart for this story made me realize just how dark it's going to become... **_

_**The breaks in the story let you know that the events are occurring around the same time or that the events are connected to each other either as a cause or an effect.**_

_**Scanned and read.  
**_

* * *

**Careful Blues**

Blossom flailed her arms in the same panic as a helpless bird. Gravity pulled her body back down to the earth below. Flying in her damaging state was a terrible decision. Her use of powers grew short, and with her Chemical X focused on first healing her wounds, she had used energy she didn't have. Its affect on her soon took its toll and left her to fall from the skies.

There was a pattern of flight before her falling: a loss of ability and a regain of ability until her body could no longer support her intentions. Chemical X had chosen to use its power to heal the Powerpuff rather than fly. This left Blossom to land on the streets upon her back. The crater in the cement outlined her figure. Similar to a murder crime scene, Blossom lay helpless within her crater. Her shaking breath reminding her to breath subtly.

In the distance, a faint stomping began vibrating through the cement. Shutting her eyes, Blossom was scolding herself for using precious energy to flee from Brick. Fleeing was her only choice by wanting to protect Townsville from his passionate evil. Sh believed that by being the first to arrive, she would have the time to place her nephew, Bubbles and Professor, in a secluded, safe place. But as she felt a numbness create a shadow over her figure her arrival only wasted precious time.

The stomping was becoming more distinct. Each step vibrated the street and was accompanied by a metallic rubbing sound. It neared the sound of rustic metal moving after spending a year beneath the rain. Blossom's breathing hitched once the stomping came so close. It stopped once it reached her crater.

It's towering height cast a shadow coating the whole of her helpless figure. Her arms and legs fell through the cracks of large fingers that belonged to a hand which lifted her off the street. She was lifted well into the air before she heard a horrifying familiar voice.

"Where is that brat?"

Even if she knew the face of the voice, she did all she could to look in his direction. There just wasn't enough energy to move, to speak—she was sinking into the epitome of uselessness.

"If Brick was _this _capable, why didn't he pummel you when I specifically ordered him to rid this city of your very existence?"

Unable to do anything but listen, she did so _intently_.

"That ungrateful brat. I create the essence of life for that no-good boy and it's not until I'm met with the willing decision to be _your_ ally that he deals _this _much destruction!"

Blossom coughed as a gasp sunk in her throat.

Mojo controlled the robotic arms to bring Blossom's limp figure inside the control chamber. She fell off the metal hand like silk cloth. Mojo began adjusting his levers and changing the robot's direction. He needed to quickly find the aggressive siblings of the group. The buildings had lay still for far too long. If one of them had succumbed in their battle, there would be a lack of power in his brilliant plan.

"Tell me where Brick is,"

Her muffled response made Mojo impatient.

"Tell me where he is!"

"_Wh..._"

He listened closely, her voice a breathy whisper. She tried again. This time, Mojo could manage to make out the reply from her breathless voice.

He peered, "_Why_?"

A soft nod of her aching neck came forth, approving of his response. Mojo spit out a scoffing breath.

"Foolish female, do you not know?" he grinned her way, "Finding Brick will ensure the safety of Townsville."

Blossom's breathing began resurfacing as a panting fear. Mojo's ironic motive made Blossom's heart pound in her chest. But Mojo's response would prove to be far from ironic.

* * *

**_Brick is essential to Townsville's safety? What would make Mojo believe this? Mojo's plan has only begun to unfold...  
_**


	12. Name (Filter)

_**Loi's Guest Response: Loi, dear, thank-you so much for your supportive review. I am so sorry for my laziness when it comes to fixing, correcting, and reviewing this story. I did so for you and added extra information, emotions, and changes to previous chapters. I am constantly doing my best to satisfy you as a reader! I hope you keep reading to find out the upbringing of our reds!**_

_**To the rest of the readers, you truly make my day and motivate me to improve!**_

_**Scanned and read.**_

* * *

**Careful Blues**

"No, no, no—_no!"_

HIM threw his end table toward his screen. Angrily, he looked around for any piece of furniture to relieve himself of the scene on the monitor. Having finished witnessing Butch's demise had caused HIM an immediate, enraging head ache. His liar was furnished lightly and with no more furniture in reach his claw sprung to latch onto the next available object: _the infant_.

Grabbing the infant's wrist in his crushing claw, the devil met his crying response. Turning to the cries of the dangling infant the devil snapped out of his rage and embraced the baby in his arms. He massaged his back with his smooth claw.

"There, _there_, my boy," he gently bounced his tiny body, "Daddy's _sorry_, daddy's here."

His cries persisted and HIM never ceased his comfort. He let the infant's head rest on his shoulder to kiss his cheek. Shifting from the touch, he began leaning into the devil's neck. Wanting to sing the boy a lullaby, he made his way over to his chair, sitting down slowly and bringing the boy to lay on his back upon his arm. Cradling the sleepy infant made to easing his tension.

"Oh, boy, your uncle is an absolute brute, but I would have chosen him over your shameful father."

His calm attitude abruptly spiked. The infant who slept in his arms was a nameless one. He grinned and leaned back, his thoughts pondering over the excitement of choosing a name.

"Blaise?"

The boy shifted.

"You're right, I've had enough of that overrated letter," he moved his head from side to side, "_Blossom, Bubbles, Buttercup, Brick, Butch, Boomer_!"

His yelling was disturbing the drowsy baby. He silenced himself and rocked the infant with care.

"I hate them, too,"

A sudden name appeared in his mind. A toothy, wicked grin followed, and the devil couldn't help but snicker.

"I've got it!" he ran a claw over his face, "You shall be _HIS_. Yes, my child, you are mine—you are HIS."

* * *

_**HIM has such a gentle persona with HIS stolen infant...**_


	13. Bravery

_**Scanned and read.**_

* * *

**Careful Blues**

The hostess stared on at the actions of Princess Morbucks, "_Sara_..., what is she doing?"

Miss Bellum paused, attentive to Princess' every move and addressed the guards behind her, "Boys, now is the time to be prepared,"

"Oh, boys, you better prepare yourselves," Princess grinned, "Because this is a little weapon I won't be afraid to use to the fullest,"

"There's no need for this, Princess,"

Princess eyed Miss Bellum from head to toe, "How about I give you one last try? _Where is the Mayor_?"

The hostess, now gripping onto the flesh of a guard's arm beneath his sleeve, shook at the menacing expression of Princess Morbucks. She switched to Princess and Sara, realizing that Sara had no plans on changing her mind to reveal the Mayor's location. The guards, upon hearing the refusal, steadied their hands over their guns. Princess was more than ready for their triggering reactions.

"If you don't want to give me what I want, I'll just have to return the favor," Princess' arm shot up, her finger pressing with force on the trigger.

A guard jumped forward, snaking his arm around Miss Bellum's waist to pull her out of death's way. The sound of a bullet came flying toward Princess' laser, disintegrating once it connected. With Miss Bellum shielded behind the guard's body, the laser tore through his tie, dress shirt, and into his chest. Miss Bellum felt the rough hold of his protecting arm loosen as he fell to the ground.

By now, the guards withdrew their guns to stand in brave positions before Miss Bellum and the hostess. Princess snickered at their dedication to hide the Mayor. They were now participating in playing it the hard way, and for Princess the hard way was always the better choice.

"Must you risk your lives for such a pathetic politician?" she paced from left to right, "And what are your inferior weapons going to do against my superior laser gun? I mean, you _did _ just witness the power of your bullets versus the fatality of my laser,"

"_You_!" the hostess shot forward, a shaky finger pointing deadly to Princess' outline, "_You _are the reason our Mayor is in such a threatening situation! _You _must be working for those men!"

"_Men_?" Princess had needed not one second to comprehend the identities of the men. She smirked widely, now more interested in Mojo's orders and plans rather than the drive to save her father. She wasn't about to give reason for the hostess to think otherwise, "They want to end this little war and in order to do so, they sent _me _to talk with the Mayor,"

"They_...did_?"

"Yes, and if you want to save Townsville—_our _home—you'd do the right thing and tell me _where he is_,"

"Mary, _don't_," Miss Bellum spoke to the hostess, "She's lying, she's manipulating you for the information she needs! Those boys attacked the girls!"

"Sara—"

Princess spoke with hissing sincerety, "They attacked the girls because they immediately took them for threats instead of possible allies! They've _changed_, Mary, and they just _want_ peace!"

"Mary, those boys would _never_ want peace! They would never _want_ anything other than to destroy this city!"

Mary, the torn hostess, turned to Miss Bellum with sparkling orbs. Miss Bellum stared on sternly with an expression obscured to Princess, but before Miss Bellum could believe Mary had come to the right choice, she turned to allow a faithful glance to Princess, "The Mayor is in the underground—"

"_No_!"

"_Quiet_!" Princess snapped, jolting her laser gun to Miss Bellum's direction.

The out lash started the standing guards into action. Two aimed at Princess while the last two risked their lives for Miss Bellum's safety. The laser proved to be quicker than the two guards, but Princess' laser had missed a clean hit at Miss Bellum as it sliced past the skin of her arm. She yelled in pain at the deep wound as two bullets struck Princess' arm and shoulder.

Their force managed to knock her off balance and send her to the ground. Rushing to Miss Bellum's side, Mary cried on her knees. She hadn't been a citizen of Townsville long enough to know of the true reputation of Princess Morbucks: manipulating and greedy. The tiny, crucial information she had the time to reveal to Princess would now threaten the Mayor even more than the presence of the matured Rowdyruff Boys.

Mary's cries caused Princess to throw a tantrum on the floor, "You worthless _hag_!"

Under the impression that Princess was subdued, the guards turned their backs to assist Miss Bellum, only to be awed shortly after at the painful inhalation of Mary's last breath. Princess had lifted her head to fire a laser to Mary's sobbing back. This time, she made a clean hit and the laser buried into her back, heating up to a deadly temperature, burning her insides. Her cries suddenly silenced and her dead body weight fell forward.

Each guard shot up to their feet but would be no match to the infuriated Princess. Having taken out her flying boots and strapped them on, Princess now flew about in the air, releasing her tantrum with a deadly weapon in her hand. She never lifted her finger off the trigger as she fired at her suited targets. Not receiving the information she needed had finally given her the stress to rage. Her father, her gifting daddy who's death would mean the end to her spoiled riches, was going to be saved to whatever extent Princess would face.

"Miss Bellum—_watch out_!"

The guard protected Miss Bellum from the laser's pathway by jumping off his feet to use himself as a human shield. The loyal guard arched his back upon contact with the laser. Shocked, Miss Bellum witnessed the guard fall to his death protecting her. She crawled to his side and reached out a hand over his. Just days before, the man, who belonged to a wife and two children, was employed to ensure of the Mayor's secret hide out. His heroics would forever be remembered in Miss Bellum's memory.

Princess landed near Miss Bellum, yielding her laser gun as she chuckled darkly at the scene. More guards would have jumped to separate Miss Bellum from the deadly Morbucks heiress if they hadn't already died doing so. Around the two females lay the lifeless bodies of the guards and the hostess. They had all willingly sacrificed themselves to protect the beautiful secretary who's beauty became deformed with fear of defeat.

"Is _this_ enough to let you know how important my business affairs are?"

"How.._How _could you do this to_ innocent_ people?"

"_Innocent_?" Princess suddenly pressed the tip of the laser gun beneath Miss Bellum's chin, "Now you listen to _me_. You will tell me where, _exactly_, underground the Mayor is or I will blast your head clean off your _perfect _body."

Miss Bellum, in the face of the one whose action deciphered the fate to her own life, responded with a brave tongue, "_Never_."

The Professor's smile, a smile she felt special laying eyes upon, faded into her mind. His accidental creations grew into gorgeous blessings to not only his lonesome self, but to every citizen in Townsville. Miss Bellum, the beautiful secretary, had no regrets for the choices she made in meeting, loving, and dying for the scientist and his beloved daughters. Not even the heat of the laser piercing through her skin could force upon unbearable pain as a last smile graced her returning beauty.

* * *

**_Will Princess find the Mayor?_**


	14. Impossible

_**Elisa's Guest Response: Yes, I hope so, too. Buttercup seems to be disturbed that her weakness has made her rely on none other than her greatest enemy to regain her strength. She truly despises this, that punch was not a "Thank-you."**_

_**Lovin' This Guest Response: Bubbles has already decided on a name for her son, but with HIM currently relishing in the fact that he is the new parent of the boy, he feels he is entitled to naming him.**_

* * *

_**Author's Request: **_

_**My fall semester of college is going to be starting on August 19th, and since I will be completing 17 units as a full time student (Mathematics Major is VERY demanding), I will be squeezing in small but approved chapters. Please, please forgive me. I won't be leaving anymore questions at the end of each chapter along with notes unless it's a response or extremely important (like this). Also, if you ever want to help me with this story and you are nit-picky on minor details like me (grammar, punctuation, fluidity), I am in need of a Beta Reader who won't have a problem proofreading and scanning my chapters. PM me or leave a review if you're interested.**_

* * *

_**How about we catch up on our present time line and put this story in drive? Please enjoy this chapter. **_

_**Will be scanned and red.**_

* * *

**Careful Blues**

**Start of a Possible Victory**

_She reminded him of a queen from England in her pearls and slim dress. Blossom had the hour-glass figure to grace herself into any elegant silk. The glistening material of the dress draped over her shoulders held by skinny straps. It brushed her inviting hips, a part of her matured body that made Professor think twice about taking her out to dinner. Even with the rush of second thoughts, he couldn't take his admirable eyes off his daughter. There was no other woman as intelligent and independent as Blossom._

_ His forceful, brute daughter hadn't dressed for tonight's formal dinner appropriately. She instead leaned on her tacky style of sport shorts with a subtle dress shirt. Nothing with glitter, jewelry, or the dreadful color of pink. Her jet black hair grew long enough to be tied into a bun that for Professor, passed the test of formal he expected from Buttercup. For him, it succeeded in taking the attention away from her athletic shoes that sported more tears than style. And for Buttercup, this outfit hadn't bothered her one bit._

_ Then there was his loveable, growing daughter—literally. Her enlarging belly had reached its limit as they entered the last month. This dinner was reserved for a gift for his blonde baby, Bubbles. After the second month, he had forgiven himself for failing in protecting her innocence from thieves. Whoever stole the very thing she held dear, then leave him as a father to deal with himself for being incapable of tracking him down thus leaving him to run free, would surely be deep underground if Professor ever encountered the boy. He had left his gorgeous daughter to weep alone, grow alone, and bond alone. Attempting many times to encourage her to tell him the boy's name, Bubbles never spoke a syllable of a male name._

_ None of that mattered after he fell in love with a grandchild he still hadn't held. The child slept in her stomach under a shiny, gray dress. Her maternity figure was compellingly complimenting. Bubbles harbored her young features longer than her sisters. A button nose, a soft complexion, and gentle blonde strands, made a promise to preserve her youth well beyond her days. Professor, with a calling arm, allowed for Bubbles to snugly latch onto it with her own. He lead her out of the home followed by his other beauties._

That may have been the last memory he resurfaced to with a grin. As he turned a sharp corner to enter the hospital grounds, he let the happiness of the memory's air become shadowed with worry. His wrinkled forehead made it clear he now had an essential task at hand. Throwing open the vehicle door and caring not to slam it shut, he ran to confront the broken automatic doors of the hospital. Bent from top to bottom and littered with shattered glass, he carefully entered. His heel crushed the already fragile glass as he looked to both sides before searching for any sign of his blonde daughter.

Something twisting in his stomach told him she was taken. But recalling the earlier moments, he noted that he hadn't seen any sign of her when Butch and HIM appeared on grounds. Buttercup was thrown out of the window, possibly protecting her from the uncontrollable beast. His heart pounded with hope that she escaped whatever fight broke out in her room. Or from any sinister plan of HIM's. Nearing the end to the first hall without coming by Bubbles, he began to pant in rising panic.

He should have taken an elevator, or the stairs, to the top floor to begin his search there. But her worried she might have traveled to a different floor during the chaos. He would risk nothing at finding his loving Bubbles. He only prayed she would be in one piece and alive. By the tenth floor, he had dropped twice in frustrating, tragic sobs. His heart never ended the beating of his hope, and through both devastating cries, he picked himself back up. He would come out of the hospital with his daughter.

Then, reaching the final, highest floor, he faced a shocking scene. Bubbles, her back still and her body fallen, lay beside the wall of the corridor. Running like he's never ran before, he dropped to her side in a desperate try to wake her. Her flesh felt cold and wet with her lips chapped. He softly tapped her cheek only to realize she hadn't taken one breath since he arrived. Shouting for help, he rocked Bubbles' heavy body in his arms. The notion somehow made him believe it comforted her enough to wake her.

"Oh, please, don't let this be happening to me...," he rubbed his falling tears against her cheek, "I can't... Why didn't I... oh, baby..., _no_,"

A sudden voice echoed, "Put her down,"

Snapping his head into its direction, he froze at its identity. His desperation may have created an illusion of hope it in a twisted way. A man, possibly his dying daughter's age, stood masked with a dark expression a distance away. Professor stuttered on a reply, coming to point out the man's blonde, shaggy locks, loose, blue shirt, and fastened sneakers. He surely was no doctor or nurse. He began to raise a hand, fooling the Professor into feeling nothing of it from his distance.

But the rising hand only proved to break through limits as it charged a spark of lightening. Professor held Bubbles closer, picking her up along with him. The man's palm charged a wary ball of lightening, and with no choice but to run, the Professor took off with Bubbles. His occupied hands slowed his speed and the man made a clear throw of a strike of lightening to his running figure. Connecting like a tazer gun's pinch, the Professor jerked in sudden twitches before hitting the tiles.

"Even if I didn't need to hit you grandpa," the man's nearing voice had a small raspy touch, "I still would have done it to feel _great_,"

His body still twitched from the lightning's effects. Unable to protect Bubbles' limp figure, the man lifted her up from the fibers on her head. Uncaring to her already succumbing life, he made to touching her back with his charged palm. Gathering all his strength, the Professor coughed a single word that deterred the man from making his daughter suffer more than what he must have already done to her.

"If I don't kill her, she'll give birth to my mistake," he turned back to her back, "And she'll only keep plaguing my mind for the rest of my life. This will be the end to everything,"

Now wasn't the time to let the information cause Professor a stroke. Although he felt his heart racing at a critical pace, he could only beg through his coughs to tell him that she no longer held the child. Her limp body suddenly came to life as the bolt shot through her. Professor now shed tears of sorrow as he witnessed Bubbles' lips spread open to let out suffering screams. That same, regretful feeling stabbed at his heart. He was worthless for allowing the same thief to not only steal her innocence, but manage to get so far as to taking her own life along with it.

"You have grown to become powerful,"

Bubbles fell limp as the man jolted to face another unsuspecting voice.

"But with your level of stupidity, your powers are shamefully wasted, Boomer,"

He sprung up, dropping Bubbles by her handful of hair, "Father!"

"I am no longer your father, I have decided as I watched your pathetic display to detach myself from that title when it comes to you," the light voice was no guessing game, "Instead, I've decided to be the father to _your son_,"

Professor's shaking hand found itself on Bubbles' wrist. The two took no notice to the movement, and Professor thankfully shed a single tear as he felt a small beat from her stricken vein. She was alive, barely, but alive. The devil had somehow saved a life with his intrusion.

"You idiot, why else do you think your whore was weak? You missed the birth of your son and take out your anger on HIS' mother!"

"I want nothing to do with it! Kill it or _I will_!"

"You dare threaten my boy?" the devil cut Boomer's cheek with a swift strike of his claw, "I will have you killed if you dare to interfere with my plans,"

"I don't threaten, _I kill_,"

Taken by his response, HIM grinned, "It's too bad the whore is still alive,"

"I will kill her if you—"

Speaking with a lion's roar, HIM lashed out, "I am not here for you! You are headed straight for hell after your doom and in this life, I will not affiliate myself with a monkey's toilet creation!"

Bubbles faced her father with squinting eyes. They were open, hardly lifting fully, but she managed to comfort her beating father with forgiveness in her bright ocean. All the brutality she had just endured from Boomer's arrival, she still felt the greatest pain from the loss of her son. Perhaps a mother's bond, she could sense her son's despair. He belonged masked in his mother's scent and not around the fires of hell, in the arms of the devil himself.

HIM bent at the knee to whisper into Professor's ear, "I am here for the famous scientist,"

Boomer made to attack his father out of fury, but the devil surrounded himself and the Professor in his teleporting smoke. With the contact of her father's hand gone from her own, she hiccuped in torture. Her lifting ocean would soon spill from both the loss of her father and son. There was no sign of happiness anytime soon, especially under the glare of her mistaken lover. He had no one else to let his fury torture for release and he turned to finally end her life in one blow. Bubbles closed her eyes, knowing she wouldn't muster the might to reverse any damage he'd bring onto her. This was the last battle, the last tear, and the last tragedy she would ever have to face.

* * *

Chemical X granted Buttercup the energy to remove herself from her uncomfortable living furniture. He still slumbered with his cuts and various incisions healed. All except his punctured limbs, which Buttercup had no plans of retrieving. She flew as far as she could from Butch, making sure he remained in sight. Her bruises still hadn't healed; their heart beats had disturbed her practice of different punches and kicks and left her to sit to recover fully.

She needed one more bruise before being able to train for another round. She pondered whether she should train with Butch as her doll. Finally realizing she hadn't had a good battle in a very long time, she spared him of his reckless usage. Being who she was, she appreciated a forceful battle that challenged her to push herself harder to do better. There were no more bullies to fight off in school, no more thieves to beat, and no more criminals to fight. Butch, to her knowledge, was the last opponent she had.

Lost in her thoughts, Buttercup returned to reality due to a large, metal arm swinging straight through the concrete walls and glass of the building. She hadn't thought when jumping to her feet to fly out of there and hadn't thought twice when taking Butch's body with her. The sound and escape had awoken Butch, the glass shards' punctures stinging as Buttercup ripped each one from his limbs in rapid pulls. Taking her unplanned rescue as an attack, he head butted her.

Had he not just woken up from a deep sleep, his head butt would have sure had the power to drop her to the ground. But his slightly weakened move had only given her a blazing head ache. A metal wall crashed into the ground as Buttercup and Butch flew into the wall's grab. Her blazing headache now became an intensified headache, with Butch preparing to connect his fists with her aching head. Buttercup caught Butch's fist in her hand, going against his force with her contradicting one. He felt renewed from his slumber and could smell the drive of blood filling every crevice of his body.

"_Butch_, lay a fist on her and I will make sure you feel double that with _this_!" If it weren't for the appearance of Mojo, the once robotic hand now assembled into a giant gun made of thousands of pistol nuzzles would have caught Butch's attention.

The grown ruff meet the primate's eyes with betrayal and confusion. His look made Mojo swallow a permitting nod as he glared down to his creation. Not once breaking or blinking, Mojo lowered the many pistols close to Butch's view. Threatening Butch was a daring call, as he took pride in his abilities to tear a part all threats, _literally_. Butch stared in shock until a smirk slapped it away. He hadn't confronted a battle with a synthetic challenger before. Now that his creator gave him an opportunity, he gladly, wickedly felt the need to take it all for it's worth.

Blasting out of Buttercup's hold, Butch's fist outstretched to punch a cracking blow to the robot's glass dome that enclosed the primate. Mojo's robot jerked from the brute force, surprised at the outcome of the traveling cracks throughout the glass. He had specifically designed this capsule to be bullet proof, and possibly damage proof of any attack that came its way. Butch was now its only attacker that the resilient glass could not handle.

"Stop this right now!"

Butch brought on his speedy, dealing fists down to the cracking glass. Just one more punch would send the cracks free and there would be no protective shield between Mojo and Butch. The older ruff acted upon a sugar rush of aggression and Mojo sensed he wouldn't spar him any injury. Buttercup speed toward Butch, knocking him away from the glass with a swift kick. He made a groan as he crashed into the street below.

She glared at Mojo, "What are you doing you stupid monkey!"

"I will not accept that name! You will call me—!"

Butch's hit came in a flash, Mojo having no time to register which attack he used. The ruff was that quick, strong, and ruthless. Both super adults fought back and forth in the skies, giving the other no pause to grip the upper hand. Buttercup kicked a leg up from in between his own but the ruff stopped the connection in a matter of seconds. He twisted her knee in his hand, causing an uncomfortable crack and a shriek from Buttercup. He found that he enjoyed her pain more than he enjoyed her rising anger.

* * *

Heaving over a hunched back, Brick had done all he could to prevent the blonde from launching his way into Townsville. If the blonde made it to Townsville, he would see it fit to join in on their battles, and Brick wanted no liability fighting on his side. But in this healing phase, Brick couldn't injury himself much more by trying. As he assumed, Boomer put up a difficult fight, seeing his call of victory as a chance to escape to Townsville.

Brick's mind labored at making sense to Boomer's outbreak. When he revealed the leader of the puffs causing his damage, Boomer had no trouble with the information. Then, when Brick spit out the life of a new addition, Boomer became insane. To Brick, the reaction made so logical sense. He would expect an insane breakage of rage from Boomer from the very beginning of hearing the girls' names. He had been the one to run from them after a shameful loss, suggesting they train in the forest where the girls' would care not to search for them.

Brick had agreed after much thought. Training would possibly give them enough time to claim a victory. There was also the possibility of becoming stronger and much powerful than the girls'. If they had no mighty Rowdyruffs to battle for so long, they would surely assume they had disappeared entirely, and once they returned they would be defeated from their sheer battle strength. He now realized their escape at training hadn't given either an upper hand. Blossom _still _proved to be just as wise, strategical, and powerful.

He loathed the final analysis of Blossom during his healing. She must have seen their absence as a way to train for a new, even mightier enemy. She was thinking on his level just in a different sense, a sense that showed her an opportunity just as worthy as his. Rising through his coughing, Brick set forth to his hunting of the puff leader. He was certain that any sign of pink from the skies would ignite his revenge in milliseconds. She would have no time to retreat.

* * *

The smell of her blood attracted his lips to hers. Boomer savored the taste of spiked bitterness and warm fear. Its texture landed into the pit of his stomach to settle the nauseating boiling that began since the very first sight he saw of her. His memories, the final memories, haunted him with visions of her body. She panted, sweated, and gave in beneath him, allowing him for a victory of an unsettling kind. To Boomer's sick mind, Bubbles' current beaten, bloody body never failed in attracting him.

Her lip quivered as he captured its touch once more. She felt him kiss her roughly, although in reality it was a mere brushing connection. Bubbles had been left with such pain that even a light touch felt like a heavy punch. He continued to kiss her neck, collar bone, shoulders, and made his way down one arm. His tongue moistly cleaned her arms and shoulders, coming to her neck to ravish its many veins. This wicked affection was an attack on its own that presented greater pain.

To know that she once begged for this affection in her nightly dreams, she sobbed in his hold. He had given her enough grief. He had taken her with no remorse, abandoned her with a bastard child, and now took advantage of her damaged body. He had been given enough, more than what Bubbles ever wished to give him. She used any strength left to push a palm upon his rough chest. He stopped his unwanted affectionate tongue to look at her, taking in her pleading, silent objection. He stared at her for so long, Bubbles' body washed over with relief.

Boomer grabbed her wrist, yanking it above her head along with the other. He dug under her knees with his own to lift her legs up, their position burning her injured thighs. She yelped unable to free herself from his control. This victory, this sinister portrait of victory, was his new-found addiction. Only this control and power gave him a victory from his counterpart, and he was attracted to it more than beating her to a crumbling state. He tore her robe into pieces, running his hands all over a body that claimed defeat once. For the second time, he would see it ache in defeat once more.

Feeling his mouth, fingers and breath on every inch of her body made her chest rise in rapid huffs. His clothing against her bare skin added to the defining objection to his actions. He gripped her bottom tightly, finding her enlarged breasts the most earning of his hot saliva. She now closed her eyes, her sobs long gone. Her objection deepened and became an anger that rose in the heat she felt from his wicked touches. His lengthy attraction rubbing through his pants and brushing her inner thigh had been the last of his touches before Bubbles burst with a scream.

Impacting the side of his face with an unseen blow, Boomer was thrown off her rejecting body and into the wall. He steamed in the tight hold of the wall, setting his eyes on a risen Bubbles. Her limbs rushed with a might she familiar viciousness. Whether she would collapse from her sudden use of short energy by continuing on, or if she would be vulnerable in her nudity, she gave no wanting sign of returning to her position beneath Boomer. She was prepared to murder, prepared to do all it took to keep all that he stole.

* * *

Mojo pressed on various buttons to activate what resembled a large canon out of the robot's hand. Aiming it at the unaware enemies, he shot a giant ball of goo to their figures. Buttercup faced the ejection of the goo and knowing Butch faced opposite, she brought on a barrage of fists that he couldn't dodge. A final fist gave her an escape just in time to avoid the enclosing goo that wrapped around Butch. Having caught an object in its sticky grip, it hovered in the air with a raging Butch punching his way out. Mojo made to punching in more buttons, a code that pulled the goo back into the canon.

Butch fought through the goo, his lungs becoming tight. Buttercup watched as Butch's fists grew tired and his brows less emphasized. Unconscious and pulled into the canon, Mojo dropped the sticky ruff into the capsule. Buttercup caught the ginger hair of Blossom, speeding down to make it into the capsule. She flew in just in the crook of time as the glass sealed tight. Glaring over at Mojo, she closed her fists over his working hands, interrupting his input of buttons. He sucked in a breath at her grip.

She lowered her voice, "What do you think you're doing?"

The same question, now rearranged and demanding, squeaked an answer from Mojo, "_Yor-your—the Professor_!"

She loosened her grip, taking in his reply before crushing his knuckles, "What did you do to him?"

He shook his head, "_I—help—HIM_!"

"You're working for HIM?"

"_Please_!"

Blossom's cracked vocals became audible, "Buttercup..., let him go...,"

"Are you crazy? Look what he did to you!"

She gave a small shake of her head, "Leh—let him go...,"

Following Blossom's struggling orders, Buttercup released Mojo's near broken knuckles. He breathed out loudly, feeling his fingers stiff and unable to bend or move. He pressed a final button with his elbow to set the robot in motion. Buttercup glanced back to Blossom quickly, seeing a gentle nod from her sister.

She sought out details, "What is all this about, monkey?"

Mojo glared as he rubbed his knuckles against his fur, "Your _father _has asked me to do the impossible,"

"Why would the Professor ask anything of you? Why would you even do it?"

He kept his eyes to the skies, away from Buttercup's attention, "The last question is unknown even to me, the first is because we're all in a dire situation, unless I respect the Professor's beliefs in his plan,"

Buttercup raised a confused brow, "Plan?"

"While you two brutes were focused on killing each other, the city of Townsville went into a lock down mode. I was watching the news as they showed all the citizens taking cover in their homes, warning the listeners to remain indoors. That's when your father called, begging me to help him in protecting you,"

"He wouldn't beg to _you_!"

"But he did, _brat_, his ridiculous care of your cursed existence brought him to stupidly ask of my protection!"

"Then why is Blossom beaten and Butch in the same air as us if you're doing as our father says to 'protect' us!"

He suddenly smirked, "I found Blossom in that state, and Butch is important to your father's plan,"

Buttercup took a step forward, "_How_?"

"Actually, I do have an answer to your prior question," Mojo's orbs squinted at the flash of a red streak, "Without the tension between you brats, HIM won't stand a chance, and eliminating him from killing us all will be almost too easy,"

Buttercup held onto the handles of Mojo's seat as he set the robot's jet engines into place. As the robot shot up, she finally understood the plans of her father. Turning to Blossom, she gave a repeat of her gentle nod. Glancing to Butch, Buttercup sank into the minor details of the Professor's plans. They were impossible; she felt uncomfortable in Butch's hold, and knowing she would need to create a team with Butch, she knew well it would be worse than his warmth.

* * *

Tied by his wrists and ankles, the Professor was left with his mouth unchained. The devil bounced his grandson in his arms, his newborn face hidden from Professor's wandering eyes. The scientist was looking on at any chance to see his grandson's gentle, resting face. His cheeks were chubby and his body seemed to maintain much baby fat. The Professor wondered how the moments leading to his creation occurred if the father was set on murdering Bubbles.

"I see you want to view the child?"

The Professor snapped up to the painted lips of the devil. He nodded once, a cautious nod that planted a mischievous grin on the devil's face.

"Wish granted," he lowered his arms to let the Professor lay eyes on a calm infant.

He could see his daughter's features on his face, his button nose small and barely defined. The devil smiled, "Now that I've obliged to you, you must obey me,"

The Professor came inches away from HIM's hot breath, "You will study this child and tell me all I need to know to destroy your plan of saving Townsville by turning those boys against me, and if you dare lie to me on any collected information, _I will kill you._"


End file.
